Solid State
by babies-stole-my-dingo
Summary: SpikeFred and WesLilah. Starts after Angel 5:08 Destiny, then AU. The effects of the Box of Flashy that made Spike corporeal again were only temporary. Wes is still trying to get Lilah out of her contract. And Buffy's back. Good times...COMPLETE!
1. Oh, Bugger All

  
**Title: Solid State**  
**Author:** babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)  
**Fandom:** Angel  
**Rating:** PG-13 for language, violence, and very slight bloodsucking. But if bloodsucking squicks you, why are you reading vampire fiction?  
**Length:** Short story (about 12,000 words)  
**Disclaimer:** Joss is the genius behind these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me. Also, any mention of a demon division of the ACLU is purely coincidental, and any resemblance to an actual legal organization is completely unintentional. Really. Many thanks to Aeneas, Illmantrim, and the Hubby for their thoughts and suggestions.  
**Notes:** Spike/Fred and Wes/Lilah. Starts after Angel 5:08 "Destiny;" AU after that. The effects of the Box of Flashy that made Spike corporeal again were only temporary. Wes is still trying to get Lilah out of her contract. And Buffy's back. Good times...

* * *

**_Chapter 1: Oh, Bugger All..._**

"Oh, bollocks," I said to myself. I prowled the hallways of Wolfram and Hart the night of the Cup of Torment debacle - and there she was. "What's Fred still doing here, then?" I'd have thought she'd have gone home a long time ago, but apparently she hadn't. And after my night of drinking at the bar down the street, I was in no shape for a confrontation. Appeared I was going to get one anyway.

Or maybe not. She shot me a look and then just walked past without saying anything. A look that spoke volumes. Yeah, she was pissed at me all right. Crap. I followed her. "Fred, wait."

She stopped but didn't turn around. As I caught up with her, she said, "Did you enjoy your nooner with Harmony?"

If I could have blushed I would have. "Not very much, actually. Look, Fred..."

"I thought that what I was trying to do for you meant something," she burst out. "But no! The first thing you do when you become corporeal again is grab that airheaded cow - "

"I'm sorry, pet. Really I am." I gave her my roguish grin. "If it makes you feel any better, her eyes started bleeding and she said some pretty nasty things to me. Bit me, too. Kinda ruined the moment." And truth to tell, I'd considered grabbing Fred instead, but I hadn't thought she'd go for it. That, however, was information she didn't need.

I could tell she wasn't buying, as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Good."

I started to get defensive and spread my hands. "I don't know what else you want from me. I said I was sorry, and I meant it." I tried a head tilt and a little smile. "Let me buy you a cuppa tea, then. I'll tell you all about it."

She thawed a little. "All right. But don't leave anything out. Flight of stairs, my ass," she muttered indelicately, surprising me.

Sitting across from her in the employee cafeteria, with iced tea for her and pig and otter blood for me, I told her everything. How Harm cut open the tape on the box for me, the flash of light, the tingly sensation - the first sensation I'd felt since That Day. Crashing into Angel's door instead of walking through it like I'd expected. I glossed over what had happened with Harmony, then told her about the big fight that the Poofter and I had in the opera house. And the Cup of Eternal Mountain Dew.

Her big science-y brain didn't miss a word, and her eyes were lit up with interest. When was the last time a bird had listened to me like this one? Cecily hadn't cared, Dru had been too lost in her madness, Harm was just too dumb, and Buffy...well, Buffy was Buffy. I would always have a place in my heart for her, a large one, but if her bloody cookie dough didn't finish baking soon, maybe I'd have a brownie instead. A delicate, delicious brownie, with chocolate frosting and a Texas accent...

Fred waved her hand in front of my face. "Earth to Spike?"

I shook my head. "Huh? Sorry, pet. Zoned out for a minute there." Then I frowned. There shouldn't be...two of her? I wasn't that drunk, was I? A ringing sound got louder and louder in my ears, until it drowned out everything else, and my vision went black.

:-:

I woke up on a gurney in Fred's lab. I had a hell of a headache, and my fingertips were tingling unpleasantly. Fred was pointing that same Star Trek gizmo at me as before, and she looked disturbed. In fact, she looked more than disturbed. I raised myself up on my elbows before falling back with a groan. That tingle in my fingertips was crawling up my arms, and it was a bloody awful sensation. "Fred? What's happening to me?" I clutched the thin mattress, and my hand went through it, but slowly and mushily, like grabbing ice cream. "Oh, balls. That can't be good."

"Looks like the effects of your 'box of flashy' were only temporary," she said, frowning prettily. "Do you know what happened to it? The box?"

"I left it on Harm's desk. I don't know what she did with it." The tingle had moved into my chest and spread up my throat into my head, and it was working its way through my middle and down my legs. I felt more vulnerable than I had when Pavayne had taken my clothes and tried to drag me into Hell. "Freddi? I don't feel so good."

"According to my instruments, you won't be feeling anything in a few minutes. Oh, Spike. I'm so sorry..."

My back arched as the tingle turned into a jolt of agonizing electricity that shot throughout my entire body. And then...nothing. Bloody hell.

"Spike? Are you...?" Fred put her hand on my shoulder - or tried to. It went right through, and she jumped back as if she'd been the one electrocuted, not me. I wanted to bang my head on the wall, but of course that wouldn't have worked, so I settled for standing up and staring peevishly around the room.

"Well. Guess I'm back to being a bloody ghost again. Isn't that just perfect?"

Fred looked like she wanted to cry. "I'll start working on the formulas again. There must be something I can do."

"Fred, luv, it's not your fault. No one tried harder than you did."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to try harder then." She had a determined expression on her face, and I knew better than anyone that a determined Fred was a fearsome force of nature. She grabbed a marker and started scribbling equations on her white board, which was already filled to nearly overflowing.

"I'll leave you to it, pet. Suppose I should go talk to Peaches and let him know that I'm back in the land of the ghostly, and it looks like he's the one who gets to be a real boy."

She stopped with her formulas for a second. "Spike. Don't give up hope."

I gave her a shaky grin. "S'long as you're on the job, luv, I won't."

:-:

"I thought I locked that door." Angel's irritation was palpable, even in the dark.

"You probably did," I answered.

He sighed. "What do you want now, Spike? Come to gloat?"

"No," I said quietly, sitting on the bed.

"What, then? I'm tired and sore, and I really don't want to talk to you right now."

"Well, Peaches, I thought it might do you good to know that your bloody Shanshu is _all_ yours. Box of flashy just had a temporary effect, and I'm all see-through again. Now that I've made your night, I'll be lettin' myself out."

"Wait, what?" He sat up and turned his bedside light on. The sheet pooled around his waist, and I saw, with a tinge of sorrow, the bruises and wounds I'd left on his torso and face during our battle. Gah. Bloody soul. Making me sorry for stuff I shouldn't even feel bad about. Not like it hadn't been a fair fight.

"I said, I'm a bleedin' ghost again. Do I need to use smaller words?" I snapped, and immediately regretted it.

"What happened?"

"Dunno. Passed out while talking with our Fred, woke up with a headache and the tinglies, then nothing." He opened his mouth to say something, and I growled, "Don't _even_ say you're sorry. Platitudes don't become the likes of us."

"I wasn't - " Angel's eyes shifted away from me. "Okay, maybe I was."

"Oh, bugger off, you sentimental pillock. You haven't liked me since Dru brought me home; don't start pretending now." My words had no real heat to them. This jousting was what we did, Angel and me. If not with weapons, then with sarcasm. "Just admit you're happy that there's no one to threaten your status as vampire-Champion-with-a-soul, and I'll be on my merry way."

He huffed out an exasperated breath. "You are really annoying, you know that?"

I smirked at him. "Thanks for the compliment, mate. Be seeing you around."

"I'm sure."

:-:

We all sat uncomfortably in Angel's office the next morning. Freddi had her resolve face on. Peaches looked like he didn't know how he was supposed to feel. Charlie was sympathetic, and Lorne's expression was that of someone who'd just been forced to eat something that tasted very, very bad. Wesley was still on his leave of absence, and the Eve bint hadn't been invited to our little confab. I was perched on the corner of Angel's desk. He started. "What've you got for us, Fred?"

Her resolve face got a bit crumbly around the edges. "Not much more than I had before. I keep coming back to the whole 'needing an infinite source of dark energy' conundrum." She looked over at Charlie.

He shook his head. "Even if the White Room wasn't empty now, the big black cat wouldn't give us anything else. We were lucky to get the first sample from it."

"What about..." I started, then clamped my mouth shut. Buffy and the Bit had done enough for me. I wasn't going to ask them to do more. Not when that asking would bring all sorts of awful memories crashing back down around our heads. They all stared at me. "Never mind."

"Hey, Slim, if you have an idea, then let's hear it," Lorne said. "'Cause, none of us really does, at this point."

"It was a stupid idea, and I'm not going to give us any false hope," I said, a little more angrily than maybe I should have.

"Why don't you let us decide if it was a stupid idea or not?" Gunn said.

"Even if it's a good idea, I'm not - I'm not going to ask her to do that for me."

Angel looked pissed. "If you're talking about Buffy, you're right. We're leaving her completely out of this."

"Too bloody right we are," I snarled back at him.

Fred rolled her eyes. "Okay, I can smell the testosterone here. You two wanna solve your Buffy rivalry some other time?"

"Poncy git," I mumbled.

"Idiot childe," he muttered back.

I relented a little. "It's not Buffy anyway. It's her little sis. But it's a foolish, dangerous notion, and I don't want her asked." Remembering the Nibblet's threat to set me on fire, I said, "She'd probably say no anyway."

"But isn't that her decision to make?" Lorne said.

"No!" Angel and I shouted at the same time. Well. At least we agreed on something.

Harmony chose that moment to stick her head in. "Boss, Eve's..." Eve shoved past her and through the door. "Excuse you! Rude, much?"

Eve ignored her and stared at me, while Harm rolled her eyes and left. "I hear you're a ghost again."

I crossed my arms and stared right back. "What's it to you?"

"And I suppose all you geniuses are trying to figure out how to recorporealize him? Have you forgotten what happened when he got solid the first time? Does the fabric of the universe mean anything to you kids?"

"Oh, piss off," I told her. "All we know is what you told us, and, in case you've forgotten, _we don't trust you_. You could have made that up out of whole cloth, or even had something to do with all the wackiness around here yourself. For that matter - " I looked over at Angel. " - have you had any contact with the Senior Partners to confirm that this bint is who she says she is? You talked with the Conduit thing," I said to Charlie. "Did it say anything about her?"

"Come on," she scoffed. "Do you think the Senior Partners would let me get away with something like misrepresenting myself as your link to them?"

"I don't think anyone here knows bugger all about the bloody Senior Partners, or what they do or don't know. Other than, well, they're evil. Which doesn't speak very well for you _if_ you really work for them."

She opened her mouth to retort, but Wes chose that moment to walk in the door. "I came back as soon as I heard..." he started. I put my hand through Angel's desk, and he stopped. "Oh. Was my information bad, then?"

"No, just old," Charlie said. "It was temporary. He's back to being a ghost again."

While the others brought Wesley up to speed, the Eve bint and I continued our staring contest. Once he was all filled in, she started to say something again, and Angel stopped her. "Eve. Get out. You weren't invited to this meeting for a reason." She acted like she couldn't believe that he was actually throwing her out of his office. He stood up. "Do I need to have you physically removed?"

Her eyes flashed. "The Senior Partners will hear about this."

"I'm sure. Out."

"This isn't over," she said, as she closed the door behind her.

"No, it never is, is it?" Peaches said to the ceiling, as Harmony stuck her head in again. "What now, Harmony?"

"Boss, I know you didn't want to be disturbed - "

"Then why are you disturbing me?"

"Buffy's on line four."

* * *

_TBC..._


	2. A Slayer, an Emissary, and a Messenger

**Author's Note:** Imzadi, I'm sorry to say that Lindsey won't be making an appearance in this story. In the original version he did, but it just didn't work. I hope you're not too disappointed.

**_

* * *

_**

**_Chapter 2: A Slayer, an Emissary, and a Messenger_**

That bloody tosser threw us all out of his office while he took the call. Well, he couldn't really make me go, but I knew I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't. I let everyone go out ahead of me, but before I left, I mouthed, "Tell her about me," to him. He rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion, and I went out without knowing whether he would or not.

I paced back and forth in front of his window while he talked to her, until finally, in exasperation, he closed the blinds so we couldn't see in anymore. I growled...and then noticed the way Harm was looking at me. My conscience started nipping my ankles. I hadn't treated her very well when I became corporeal again. And even if she was a silly chit, she didn't deserve what I'd done to her.

I walked over to her desk and leaned on it. She pretended I wasn't there, busying herself with files and things. I sighed. She was going to make it difficult. "Harm, pet." Her gaze speared me like a crossbow bolt. "Did you need something? Whose office do you want to use this time?"

Uncomfortable, I dropped my eyes. "Um, about that. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done you that way." I turned my back on her shocked expression, went back across the room, and waited for Angel to finish his phone call. But before I got halfway across, I heard her mutter.

"Maybe a zebra can change his spots after all."

One side of my mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. Perhaps this soul business wasn't so bad. Angel chose that moment to come out of his office. He didn't look happy. "Buffy and Dawn are going to try to catch the next flight out. Their plane lands around nine-thirty tonight."

"You told them?"

"Yes, I told them," he said with his face in his hand.

Huh. Would wonders never cease.

:-:

No, they wouldn't, actually. Angel asked me to wait for them in his apartment upstairs...and I did, after making a few snarky remarks about his decorator. He had the same ugly chairs in his apartment that graced the offices. And while the urn motif was interesting, I thought it only polite to point out that most people put things like flowers or the ashes of loved ones in them instead of just letting them sit on shelves, all bare and lonely. I heard him mutter something about my ashes, but since he couldn't dust me due to my delicate condition, I just grinned at him, wishing I could smoke a cigarette.

I perused his bookcases for something interesting to read while I waited. Byron, Shelley, Frost, Thoreau...No wonder he'd liked my poetry. Buncha sentimental wankers. Mood I was in, I wanted some Emily Dickinson, but...oh, look - a leather-bound, annotated, illustrated "Rime of the Ancient Mariner."

I took that one down.

A couple of hours later, voices in the hallway alerted me to the fact that Angel had come back with Buffy and Dawn. I had enough time to stand up before the door burst open, and Buffy strode in and aimed a hard punch at my face. Dawn squealed in protest...until Buffy's momentum carried her through me and sent her stumbling onto the couch. Crossing my arms and shaking my head, I gave her my best smirk. "I missed you too, pet. Didn't Peaches tell you I'm a ghost?"

An interesting mix of emotions crossed her face as she picked herself up off the sofa. "Something like that came up in the conversation."

The Nibblet was crestfallen. "Does that mean I can't hug you?"

Remembering the battle with the androids, I was loathe to tell her that until I tried something out first. "Stand still, Bit. Need to concentrate..." A delighted smile wreathed her features as she felt my arms wrap around her, but changed to puzzlement as she tried to return the gesture, but her arms went right through me and she found herself clutching air instead. "It's...complicated."

"I can tell." She sat herself on the couch next to her big sis, and Angel and Fred followed them into the room. As they found seats, the story started to come out in bits and pieces...Buffy telling about the Final Battle over the Hellmouth - conveniently leaving out the part where she'd said she loved me - me, telling about the final minute or so; Angel talking about how I'd come back when he'd opened the package with the amulet in it; and finally Fred telling about the efforts to get me corporeal again and the Box of Flashy that had finally succeeded, if only temporarily.

I met Angel's eyes across the room, and we made a tacit agreement to gloss over what had happened in the opera house. No sense in regaling Buffy and Dawn with everything that had gone on there. Angel told them that the Cup of Torment was a fake, and we left it at that. Fred lifted an eyebrow at me, and I shrugged a little. Seemed like we were all leaving out important parts. Getting to be a pattern, that was.

And so was getting pulled through the floor into the basement. I grumpily picked myself up off the cement and surveyed my surroundings. They hadn't changed much since Pavayne had played his little game with me. "I bloody hate this place," I muttered. Buffy's expression had been priceless, though. That was some consolation.

"I don't like it much either," said a female voice. Pretty, in a severe sort of way, wearing a business suit that looked feminine on her and a scarf that didn't really match around her neck, she stuck her hand out. "Lilah Morgan."

I held my palms up. "I'm a ghost. I can't shake hands. What do you want with me? Come to suck me into Hell? Played that tune already, luv."

She smiled a little. "No, Spike. I'm here to open a dialogue with you."

I crossed my arms. "Really. And who do you represent?"

"The Senior Partners."

Curiouser and curiouser. "And what would they be needin' with me, then? They've got that Eve bint as their liaison; what do they want me for?"

"This is her first field assignment. I'm supposed to make sure everything goes smoothly and that she's not screwing it up too badly."

"And what makes them think I'll feel like cooperating?" I was getting rather bored with Ultimate Evil thinking I was its toy. "Like I told Angel not too long ago, I don't play for that team anymore."

"They can make you corporeal again. Permanently."

That stopped me for a second. "Very attractive carrot you've got there. Where's the stick?"

"No stick. Just report to me every once in awhile on the goings-on."

I scoffed. "There's _always_ a stick. F'rinstance...they've got you on some kind of tether. What's their hold on you?"

"I signed a contract. Enforceable in perpetuity."

"Sold your soul to the sodding devil, did you?" I shook my head at her. "You can't sell what you don't own, luv."

For the briefest of instants, an expression of wild hope flashed across her face...then was wiped away as if it had never been. If I hadn't been looking directly at her when it happened, I would have missed it altogether. Interesting. But the cynical mask slipped smoothly back into place, and she said, "You've been watching too many Brendan Frasier movies."

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Yeah, whatever. Why you, coming to me?"

"The Senior Partners feel that, since I have experience with the folks upstairs, I'll be able to assess the information you give me better than a stranger would. And since you and I don't have any history together, we don't have any baggage to overcome."

"Uh-huh." I was still skeptical. "And what kind of contract do I have to sign - enforceable in perpetuity?"

"Hard to make you sign a contract when you don't have any blood."

"There's that. All the same, I think I'll pass. I trust Freddi and her big brain more than I trust the Senior Partners and whatever they may think they owe me when all is said and done. I don't much feel like spying on my friends for some evil pie-in-the-sky reward."

"Your friends? What friends? You and Angel hate each other, and you don't even know the rest of those clowns."

"I know them well enough."

"Huh. You think you do. You have no idea what dark deeds our heroes can get up to when they think they have to."

"No? Wes shot his Da when he threatened Fred - or the person he thought was his Da, anyway. I've heard some interesting stories around here. Not sure you could say anything that would shock me, pet."

Her lip curled. "You might be surprised. However..." She sighed. "I'm not authorized to tell you any of that. What I am authorized to do is have you discuss this offer with one person." Her eyes slid away from my face momentarily when she said that, and it made me wonder if she was playing a game of her own. For a lawyer, she didn't lie very well - at least, she didn't lie very well to me.

"Do I get to pick the person?"

"No. You can discuss it with Wes. No one else. Anyone else hears about it and all bets are off."

"Why the Watcher?"

She gave me an enigmatic smile. "Why don't you ask him that?"

I took the elevator back upstairs, and they all stared at me when I walked through the doors - literally- into Angel's penthouse. "What was that all about?" Angel asked.

"Sorry. Not allowed to say."

"Spike, if you're keeping secrets again..."

"I am, but not just because of me, you git. I'm sure that when the time is right, I'll be permitted to tell all. For now, no. At least, not with anyone in this room. Has Wes gone home for the day?"

"Does anyone around here ever go home?" Angel asked the ceiling.

"Well, not very often. I need to toddle off and find him. If you'll excuse me..."

"Spike, we need to talk," Buffy said.

"Yes, we do, pet. But I'm sure you're tired from your flight, so let's just save that talk for tomorrow, all right?"

"Okay," she said reluctantly.

:-:

I found the Watcher in his office, looking over one of his ever-present big leather-bound books. He looked up when I made a throat-clearing noise. He seemed unhappy to see me. "Spike. Come to call me 'Head Boy' again?"

"Are you bloody kidding? After what you did to the android you thought was your Da? That took balls, Wes. I can admit I was wrong about you." After all, Wes wasn't Angel. I didn't have any issues with the Watcher.

"Thanks ever so," he said drily. "Something I can help you with? Or are you just doing general haunting right now?"

I perched on the edge of his desk. "I just had a very interesting conversation, with a woman named Lilah Morgan."

He went extremely still. "Really. And what, exactly, was that conversation about?"

"Apparently this is Eve's first field assignment. So they want me and Lilah to act as a sort of liaison, I suppose, make sure what she's telling them is accurate. But she said the only person I could tell was you. So. Here I am." I explained what she had told me, and mentioned the expression on her face when I'd said that she couldn't sell what she didn't own.

His countenance got even more pensive at that. "I tried to burn her contract. It didn't work."

"Why would you...Oh." Wasn't that interesting? I wondered just what had made the good Watcher and the evil lawyer come together in _that_ way, decided that Wes probably wasn't going to tell me, and dropped it. "So, what do you think?"

"I think," he said, "that it can't hurt to give the Senior Partners another perspective on what we're doing here."

We exchanged thoughtful looks as we considered the possibilities.

:-:

"Bugger it," I thought to myself. Why the hell had I come here? The music was good, but I couldn't drink, couldn't play pool, couldn't smoke...This bar was a rather nasty reminder of what I'd lost, again. I was just about to get up and leave when a man sat down in the chair opposite me at my table. He was a bit shorter than average, with short brown hair,dressed in shapeless brown pants, a shirt Xander would have been ashamed to wear, and a jacket that didn't match the rest of his ensemble at all.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked with a heavy Irish accent.

"I was just leaving."

"I'd rather you didn't, Spike."

I had half-risen, but sat back down when he said my name. "All right. You've got my attention. Who the bloody hell are you?"

"My name is Doyle. The Powers That Be sent me to you with a message."

"Yeah? What's that? That I'm doomed to be surrounded by bloody Irish louts for the rest of my unlife?"

He didn't react to the insult. "You're supposed to be the new Champion," he said, without a trace of irony.

"Really?" I barked out a laugh. "You're a bit confused on that one, then. I'm nobody's Champion. I can't even touch anything." I put my hand up through the bottom of the table, and waggled my fingers at him, to demonstrate.

He leaned back. "Hey, I'm just a messenger, here to do one last thing. It's up to you what you do with the information."

"Well, I think you got your bloody wires crossed, then, boy. That's Angel's gig, not mine. I've done my share of world-saving, and if it's all the same to you, I think you can go bugger yourself. Good night." I turned my back on him and walked out.

* * *

_TBC..._


	3. Connection

  
**_Chapter 3: Connection_**

"Everyone wants a piece of me," I complained to Fred the next morning in her office. "Be damned if I'm going to let them scrape my strings like a second-hand fiddle."

She started to put her hand on my shoulder, and a tingle shot through me as she...touched it? Her eyes widened. "Did you feel that?"

I grinned back at her. "Yeah. Guess I'm more real around you, luv."

She looked embarrassed and changed the subject. "You're not getting sucked into Hell or anything, are you?"

Sweet of her to worry. I suddenly realized that Fred seemed to be the only one who was interested in me for my own sake and not what she could get out of me. Did she...? I pushed the thought firmly away. My problem was a colorful enigma to her, nothing more. "Naw, pet. That was Pavayne's gig, not anyone else's. Some guy at the bar last night, though...if he was serious, the bloody Powers That Be have taken an interest now. Not enough that I've got the Senior Partners, Angel, and Buffy! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that; it's not nice," I said to the Slayer, who'd walked in behind me.

"We need to talk, Spike."

I wrapped my duster around me. Still wasn't sure how that worked, exactly, but I wasn't going to question it at a time like this. I mean, I wasn't corporeal, and neither was the coat...Never mind. "Fine, talk, then."

She gave Fred a glance. "Alone?"

"I'm sure there's an empty office somewhere about, even if Angel won't give me one. I'll come back later?" I said.

Fred smiled, a little tremulously. "Sure. I hope I'll have something for you."

"Thanks, luv. You're a peach."

Did she blush? Surely not, I thought as Buffy and I left to find someplace private. Buffy closed the door of a vacant room behind us and leaned on the desk, looking everywhere but at me. "Why didn't you call when you came back?"

"Well, there was this little thing about not being able to pick up a phone," I answered, a little more impatiently than maybe I should have. "You could ask your precious Angel the same question."

"Oh, I did, believe me," she answered with a flash of anger. "He didn't want to 'bother me.' _Bother me_! As if...ugh. Spike. I meant what I said, back when you were going all glowy. I know you said you didn't believe me - "

I interrupted her, not wanting to go there. "Buffy, has it occurred to you that maybe we're just not meant to be together? Look at all the obstacles. Vampire and Slayer, for one. I tried to kill you several times, for another. Not to mention other, even more hurtful things." Now it was my turn to glance away from her.

"But you got your soul for me! That's, like, an automatic do-over."

"What, because of all that utter bollocks about it not being 'me' who tried to _rape you_?" I snapped. "Angel might be able to play that card to make himself feel better, but I'm not going to fool myself that way. If it wasn't me, then I've got nothing to feel guilty about, right? Balls."

"Fine, it was you. I still forgave you for that. A long time ago. I thought we'd moved past it. So, what, you don't love me anymore?"

Bloody hell. I ran my insubstantial hand through my immaterial hair. "It's not that at all, Buffy. You know I love you to distraction. Always will. I'm just not sure I'm good for you. And I don't want you to risk yourself for me. You damn near died at the bottom of the Hellmouth, and I won't have you doing that again."

"Maybe that's a decision you should let me make." She stood up and paced furiously around the room. "You know, I'm sick and tired of all you men deciding what's best for me. Angel came to LA after the Mayor's Ascension because it was best for me. Giles moved to England after Willow resurrected me because it was best for me. Riley went to South America because he was holding me back. No one ever asks my opinion." Her voice faded to a whisper, and she sat back on the desk, her face in her hands. "No one ever asks what I think."

She was right, of course. What a lot of patronizing wankers we were. "We just want you to be happy," I said lamely.

She barked out a bitter laugh. "Is that why you all leave me? So I'll be happy? Thanks ever so much, but don't do me any favors, okay?" She leaped to her feet and strode from the room, slamming the door.

All I could do was let her go.

:-:

Wes sat on his office couch, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Come in, Spike. No, you're not interrupting anything. I was just wondering if there might yet be a way I can break Lilah's contract with Wolfram and Hart."

"Didn't they dump a bunch of law stuff in Charlie's head? Maybe he'd know."

He shot me a look. "People underestimate you to their detriment, I think. I should have thought of that long ago." He got up and picked up his phone. Before I could hear what he was going to say, I was yanked through the floor and down to the basement. Again.

"Dammit, Lilah. There has to be a better way of getting my attention than that. It's very bloody annoying. Have me paged or something."

"Yeah, I'll do that next time," she said in a deadpan way that told me she'd get me down there any way she liked, and the more disagreeable the better. "Why is the Slayer here?"

I shrugged. "Angel told her I was back. She caught the next flight out."

"Really?" An exquisitely groomed eyebrow went up. "You two have a thing?"

"Don't see why that's any of your bloody business. Wesley, by the way, is still trying to figure out how to break your contract."

Her jaw tightened. "Even if he does, I'll be just as dead. Remind him that he, you know, chopped my head off."

I laughed. "I've seen proof time and again that being dead doesn't necessarily mean staying dead. If I know our Wes, he's not just trying to break your contract, he's trying to bring you back to the land of the living as well."

She shook her head and smiled ruefully. "Well, full marks to him for trying. I'd have thought he'd be panting after Little Miss Science Nerd by now."

"I bloody hope not," I muttered.

She raised her eyebrow again. "Anyway," she said, switching tracks. "The Senior Partners want the Slayer gone, back to Italy. Her being here is...disturbing."

"Yeah, they're not the only ones who're disturbed," I muttered.

"And her sister? What's up with her? She's a power to be reckoned with, according to the higher-ups."

"Dawn? She's just a teenage girl," I said, not wanting the Senior Partners to get any sniff whatsoever that the Bit was anything more than what she appeared. I had the feeling I wasn't fooling Lilah; the woman wasn't stupid. But I hoped she'd leave it alone, at least for the moment.

"Uh-huh. What about news on your front? Any luck getting you back into some semblance of solidity? The Senior Partners are still unhappy that you've made an appearance at all, by the way. They like to control things a little better than that."

"Some guy at the Peppermint Stick last night claimed that he was a messenger of some sort. That I was a Champion for the Powers That Be." My voice was heavy with sarcasm, even while I was glad that we'd gotten off the subject of Dawn.

"Really? What did he look like?"

"Pretty ordinary. Shorter than me, badly dressed. Fairly heavy Irish accent."

She clicked her tongue. "Well, if he's legit, then the Powers That Be have given up on Angel. And if he's not... Hm. Interesting. Think he'll contact you again?"

"I told him to bugger off, and he said this was a last thing for him to do. I've got my doubts. Lilah." The raw pain on her face when I'd mentioned Wesley made my soul ache, even though she was, by definition, evil. "Our Wes will do everything he can. You know that. If there's a way to do it, he'll find it."

She took a deep breath. Funny how old habits don't die when the body does. "Yeah. Tell him...tell him I still have that dollar bill."

:-:

Late that afternoon, Angel, Wes, Gunn, Fred, and Buffy gathered in Angel's office, loading for bear. "Oh, good," I said. "Going out to kill things?"

"There's a nest of Ra'nishna demons holed up in one of the local warehouses," Wes informed me, sighting down a crossbow.

"Nasty buggers. Mind if I tag along?"

Angel curled his lip. "Not like you can do anything. What are you going to contribute?"

"Clever quips. And it's not like you can stop me." Only an effort of will prevented me from giving him the two-fingered salute.

Fred checked the settings on her flamethrower. "I'm still working on your problem, Spike."

I smiled back and reassured her. "I know, pet. But you can't do that twenty-four/seven, now, can you?" Rubbing my hands together in anticipation, I said, "Let's ride."

Buffy had watched the entire exchange. "Maybe you should stay here with Dawn, Spike."

"And miss the fun? Not on your life. Been too long since I've been able to get my violence on with something besides Angel that deserved it. I can hit things if I concentrate."

"Yeah, hitting things? Not on the list," Angel said. "More like dismembering things."

"Oh, screw you, Peaches. I'm going."

The sun was headed toward the western horizon; Angel had timed it so that we'd hit the warehouse just after it went down. The Ra'nishna demons had taken over one of the upper floors, and the building itself had apparently been condemned and abandoned. That point was brought home when Angel opened the door and the hinges screeched at him.

"Well, there goes any chance of surprise," he grouched.

"They know we're here, but we don't know how many of them there are or exactly where," Buffy said. "How about Spike goes in and spies out the territory and sees what's the what? At least he won't make any noise."

I smirked at Angel. "See? I can be useful after all. Back in a flash."

I found the demons up a staircase to a second-floor section overlooking the main floor about fifteen feet below. Holding onto things hadn't been the only new trick I'd learned from Pavayne; I could also make myself invisible, and float, if I tried hard enough. I poked my head through the wooden floor and had a look around. Crap, they'd seen us come in, all right, and they had armed themselves to the teeth. Not that they actually needed weapons, with teeth like that. Broadswords and battleaxes seemed to be their armament of choice, and there were eight of them to our five - not counting me, since I was density-impaired. Lovely.

"Only one way up to them," I reported. "Good news is, they're all on that second floor, so if we can kill them, there aren't any more."

"How many of us can go up that staircase at once?" Angel asked.

"No more than two, I think. Might be best to have our fetching mad scientist go up with her bloody great flamethrower and clear us a way first."

"That's a st - " Angel paused. "...really good idea, actually. Since when are you strategy guy?"

"Spike has layers," Fred said, then shut her mouth with a snap.

Angel gave her a look. So did Buffy. Was that jealousy on the Slayer's face? She noticed me staring at her and cleared her expression before I could say something appropriately inappropriate, and then it was time to attack.

We swarmed up the stairs behind Fred. The demons waited at the top, grinning at the sight of the tiny woman charging them and yelling like a banshee. Their grins disappeared when her flamethrower came on and incinerated one where it stood. The others retreated, and we followed and engaged. Angel and Buffy took on two apiece, while the others had one demon each.

My girls found themselves backed up against the edge of the floor, which dropped off to concrete fifteen feet below with no railing. Watching Fred from the corner of my eye, I maneuvered around behind one of Buffy's opponents and punched it hard on the snout when it turned to face me - and sneered at it when its counterstroke went harmlessly through my torso.

I wound up and clobbered it again. It staggered backwards and bumped into Buffy's adversary.

These demons might have been big and toothy, but smart they weren't. The other demon turned around and began yelling and gesticulating at the one I'd been fighting. Its expression was almost comically surprised when Buffy's sword skewered it through the heart from behind and sent it crashing down. The other Ra'nishna roared and attacked her, but she was more than capable of handling it on her own, so I looked over to see how Freddi was doing.

She held a demon at bay with her flamethrower, and I noticed with alarm that the floor in front of her was on fire. "Fred! Get out!" The wooden slats beneath her - and Buffy, who'd just dispatched her demon - collapsed.

Somehow, I leaped and caught Fred on the way down. As we hurtled toward the cement together, I chanted to myself, "Concentrate, concentrate, concen - Ow." I landed on my back, Fred on top of me. Buffy had grabbed the edge of the floor and hung above us, while flaming debris rained down. I wrapped my arms tighter around Fred and rolled until we were out of the way, hunching my duster over my head to shield us from the fire. Seconds later, I felt someone pounding on my back...

And then I blacked out.

:-:

I came to in the van we'd taken to the warehouse, my head pillowed in Fred's lap, her fingers stroking my hair. I muzzily thought that it felt rather nice, and realized with a violent start that I could _feel_, which was new.

Fred apparently noticed the twitch. "Shh," she said. "You're all right, and we're on our way back to the office."

"What happened?" My voice was hoarse.

"The floor collapsed and you broke my fall. Some of the flooring landed on your back and set it on fire, and Buffy beat it out. And somehow, I don't know how, you're solid again. We need to get you back to the lab so I can run some tests."

"All right, luv. You're the boss...Think I've got some broken ribs. And I'm hungry. Did we win?"

She choked back a laugh. "Yeah. We won."

"He's awake?" Buffy's voice, from the seat in front of us.

"Can't hide anything from her, can we, Freddi?" I sat up regretfully, wincing at the pain in my side. To my surprise, Fred scooted closer to me and slid under my arm. I stiffened a little, feeling her holding her breath and her heart speeding up, then relaxed and squeezed her shoulders gently. She let out the breath and snuggled a bit closer.

Buffy had watched the entire thing, and her expression ran the gamut from shocked to upset to, finally, resigned. She turned back to face the front, and I thought, We're going to have to talk.

Here and now, though? Fred was a warm, comfortable presence at my side. If she hadn't made the move she had, I would never have thought she had any feelings about me. I'd figured I was an interesting puzzle for her, nothing more. Oh, there'd been little signals, shy gestures and looks - but I'd been thick and missed most of them, now that I came to think about it.

For now, I just decided to breathe in the scent of her hair.

:-:

The Star Trek gizmo beeped as I drank down a nice warm cup of pig and otter blood. Fred looked at the readout and frowned, while Buffy and Dawn hovered anxiously. Dawn kept touching me to make sure I was really real, and every time she did, the machine beeped louder.

The tone of the machine changed, just as the familiar unpleasant tingle began in my fingertips again and my ears started buzzing. "Spike?" Buffy's voice was alarmed.

"What does that mean?" Dawn asked.

"Oh, Lord, not again." Fred set the gadget down and grabbed my wrist. "Spike! Concentrate. Come on, you can do it."

The instant Fred's hand closed around my arm, the tingle and buzzing went away, and the beeping went back to what it had been before. She craned her neck to look at the readout, then let go of my wrist and picked up the machine - which immediately began freaking out. Saying a word I never thought I'd hear come out of her mouth, she clutched my hand again.

And the machine went back to what passed for "normal."

The four of us exchanged wide-eyed glances. I swallowed a couple of times and said, "Guess you're my anchor, pet."

"Yeah? Then I guess you're going to have to come home with me."

"Oh, Freddi, you don't have to - "

"Don't I? Be damned if you're going ghosty again on my watch, mister. Not if I can prevent it." She stared at our joined hands. "And apparently I can."

* * *

_TBC..._


	4. Facing the Music

  
**Author's Notes:** _headdesk_ You are correct, Imzadi; Lilah wouldn't say "You and HER" and I have corrected that (changed it to "you two"). However, as I said before, Lindsey will be absent from this fic. 

On to the final chapter!

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Facing the Music_**

We stepped out of the van she'd called to take us to her apartment. I held a coolerful of bagged blood in my left hand, and Fred's hand in my right. She'd brought the Star Trek gizmo with her. "Well, this is it," she said. "Come on up."

Her second-floor apartment was small and cozy. O'Keefe and Picasso prints adorned her walls, and her bookcases overflowed with math and physics books, with a goodly portion of science-fiction titles thrown in for good measure. I recognized a few - Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams, Alan Dean Foster. Her taste in movies mirrored her taste in books; Riddick and Firefly ("Oh! I've wanted to watch that," I said) were fairly prominent in the DVD collection, along with Next Generation Star Trek and the original Star Wars movies. But not the prequels, I saw with a grin. A half-done puzzle of cats resided on a mat in the corner. Brightly painted wood carvings of animals decorated her shelves.

The first thing I'd noticed, however, was piles and piles of paper on every available surface, covered with formulas. A rainbow of sticky notes, scratch pads, and various-colored highlighters littered her coffee table, end tables, and kitchen table; and a white board, similarly covered with incomprehensible math, was propped up on the counter beside an open PowerBook.

She also had a few weapons here and there. A battleaxe leaned against a chair, and a cocked and loaded crossbow rested beside the door. Stilettos and throwing stars served as paperweights. And what looked like a half-finished construction - a trap? - of some kind took up a third of her living space.

"Um. Sorry about the mess. Why don't you take your duster off and hang it on the coatrack?"

"All right, pet." I set the cooler down and shrugged out of one sleeve, then we switched hands and the coat fell to the floor. We bent down together to pick it up, and banged heads. "Sorry," we said at the same time, and smiled. We both grabbed it and hung it on the coatrack.

"Ugh. I need to get out of these clothes." She blushed. "Well, and into something a little less...work-y, if you know what I mean."

"I won't watch," I assured her. "I can be a gentleman. When I want to, anyway."

"'Reaper,'" she said, looking at me sideways.

"Oh, you figured out that was me?" My turn to be embarrassed, as she led me into her bedroom, which was better organized than the living room, with more books and less paper.

"Wasn't hard. Who else would it be?" She opened a dresser drawer one-handed and took out a tank top and a pair of Marvin the Martian boxers. She noticed my amused expression. "I always thought he was funny. 'I'm going to blow up the Earth...'"

"'It blocks my view of Venus.' Oh, bloody hell, did I just say that?"

Fred's tongue showed for a moment between her teeth as she sat on the bed. "Yes. Yes, you did. And now we can revel in our shared geekdom."

"If you tell Angel I'll never hear the end of it." I averted my gaze and switched my hand from her hand to her arm to make it easier for her to change into the more comfortable clothes.

She didn't take long. I tried not to think about how cute she looked dressed like that, and we walked back out to the living room and sat on the sofa. She jumped up again almost immediately. "We forgot to put your blood in the fridge!" We took care of that little chore and returned to the couch. Her expression was thoughtful.

"What's runnin' through that big brain of yours, luv?"

"I just wonder. Blood has mystical properties, right?"

"Sometimes," I said warily.

"And we have a connection here." She nodded at our joined hands.

"Yeah..." Right, it was official. I didn't like where this was going. At all.

"We can't spend the rest of our lives attached at the hip. So." She took a deep breath and said what I was dreading she'd say. "You should drink some of my blood."

"Abso-sodding-lutely not. Look, Freddi, I appreciate the sentiment, really, I do. But even if I were to take you up on it, the others would never stand for it. Angel, Wes, and Charlie would have a Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament to figure out who got to stake me first. If Buffy didn't do it before they did."

"We wouldn't have to tell them. None of their business anyway. And it's not like you'd have to drink it directly from me. It could go in a cup first. And it might only take a few drops."

That stopped me momentarily, and I looked at her sideways. "A few drops?"

"Sure. See..." She placed my hand on her leg and grabbed a pushpin from the end table. "I can prick my finger, like so - " A drop of blood welled up from the tip of her first finger, mesmerizing me. "No danger there, of you taking too much. Here."

She moved her hand toward my face, and my lips parted involuntarily. A tiny jolt of electricity shot through me as her finger touched my mouth, and I wrapped my tongue around the digit and sucked gently, keeping my eyes fastened to her face as I did so. Heat suffused me as I swallowed, and a pleasant tingle began at my extremities and moved inward to my heart. I released her finger and blinked a few times. "Oh. That was..."

"Absolutely marvelous," she finished.

"Yeah." My voice was husky, and suddenly we were kissing. Who moved first? I had no idea.

Nor did I care with my arms full of warm, adorable physicist. Time came to a complete and utter stop until, by mutual consent, we stopped with a series of small kisses. She gave me a shy smile. "Are you...solid?"

I took stock. I felt different than I had when it was just contact with Fred that was keeping me corporeal. More here, if that makes any sense. "You know, I think I am." I grinned roguishly. "Not sure I want to stop touching you just yet, though."

She grinned back. "Of course not. Can't take any chances." She reached over to the coffee table and picked up the scanner. It beeped reassuringly when she pointed it toward me. "You know, I think you're really real this time. I'll have to get you back in the lab to be sure, but it's looking pretty good. And nothing says we have to tell the others what really happened."

"Well. We might as well wait until morning, anyway." And I kissed her again.

:-:

Angel, Wes, Buffy, and Dawn looked on anxiously as Fred ran a series of tests. She finally stepped back with a satisfied smile. "He's as real as any of us."

"Does that mean he can come back to Rome with us?" said Dawn.

"Whoa! Who said anything about going to Rome?" I demanded.

"Well, Buffy and I were talking last night..."

"Sorry, Bit, but your big sis and I haven't discussed anything of the sort." I glanced over at Fred. "I've got ties here now, and I'm not sure I want to just pack up and move halfway across the planet."

"But - "

Buffy held up her hand. "Can we talk, Spike? In private?"

"Sure, Slayer. Back in a bit, luv," I said to Fred. She bit her lip and nodded.

We found an empty office, and I leaned on a corner of the desk and crossed my arms over my chest. "Making plans for me, Buffy? Not sure I like that."

"But I thought, now that you're all alive and solid, that we could - "

"Pick up where we left off? And where exactly was that?"

"I love you, Spike. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Now her arms were crossed as well.

I sighed. "It would, if I believed you. But I didn't believe you the first time you said it, and nothing's changed."

Her face fell. "You really didn't? I convinced myself that you'd said that just to get me out of there. You, you really didn't?"

"Well, why would I, Slayer? What in our so-called relationship would ever lead me to think that you actually bloody meant a thing like that? You tossed me a bone to make both of us feel better while I was getting burnt to a crisp." I gave her a thumbs-up. "Good for you. Thanks for trying. Now take Dawn back to Rome with you before you both get caught up in whatever it is that Angel's doing here. The Senior Partners are sniffing around the Niblet and it makes me very sodding uncomfortable."

She looked alarmed at that, but plowed on. "It's Fred, isn't it? I saw the way you two look at each other. Don't think you're fooling anyone, because you're not."

"There's a bit of that," I admitted. "But even if Fred and I didn't have any feelings for each other, I still wouldn't go back with you. My place is here."

"Here? Why? Why can't you come back and help us find and train new Slayers?"

"Buffy..." I tried to organize my thoughts. "Have you noticed anything about Angel?"

She frowned. "He's changed. And not in a good way. And when did Wesley become all competent and stuff?"

"I don't know anything about Wes. But Angel needs me. He'll never admit it, I know, but someone needs to remind him about what his bloody goal was. He lost the plot somewhere along the way, I think. Because, this?" I waved my arm around the room. "Is not him."

"He hates you. You hate him. Why would you help him?"

"Oh, hate isn't a strong enough word, pet. But," I said pensively, "we have family ties. Strange, wrong family ties, true. But we _are_ family, nevertheless. And we're the only vampires in the world with souls, so we've got this niggling little sense of right and wrong. And something tells me it's right to stick around."

She eyed at me sideways. "And it's not because of a certain hot science-lady or anything?"

"Freddi's part of it, like I said before; I'm not going to deny we've got feelings for each other. She's the only one that believed in me when I came out of that bloody amulet. She thought it was worthwhile to try to save me, when another nasty ghost was trying to drag me down into Hell. And if I can get her out of here before the place comes crashing down around their ears, I will."

"You're really concerned about this setup, aren't you?"

I reached into my duster pocket for a cigarette. "Well, how does it look to you, Buffy? What does Rupert say?"

"Oh, God, let's not even go there. I thought he was going to teleport to Rome and physically restrain me from coming here to see you."

"Well, you've seen me. And honestly, pet, it was good to see you. But our time passed about six exits back. And I really don't like Dawn being here. It's too close to the Senior Wankers by half."

"You're sure I can't talk you into coming with us?"

"Stop with the puppy eyes, Slayer. It doesn't suit you." I blew a mocking stream of smoke out towards her.

"Fine." She fired one last weapon. "Dawnie's going to be disappointed."

"She's going to have to be," I said heartlessly, "because I'm not going to Italy. And that's final."

Her shoulders slumped. "All right. I had to try, though."

"I know, pet."

I followed her back into the lab. "Go upstairs and pack, Dawnie," she said. "We're taking the next flight back to Rome. Without Spike."

"Awww..."

"No arguing, Platelet. It's not safe for you here." Eve chose that moment to stomp into the room. "Case in point. Out. I'll talk with you before you go," I promised, relenting a little. But I really wanted her out of there. I jerked my eyes at the door, signaling Buffy, and she grabbed Dawn and they left. "Eve," I said, when they were safely gone. "To what do we owe the displeasure of your company?"

"I hear you're solid again."

"Yeah." I took a final drag on my cigarette and tossed it into a sink. "Fabric of the universe holding up all right?"

"For now. The Senior Partners would like to be informed of things like this when they happen, not several hours later. You kids are playing with fire here."

"Oh, sure. Next time something important happens off-campus, we'll all rush back here to inform you. Oh, wait. No we won't."

"They're concerned - "

"And I don't work for them. I didn't sign any bloody contract, so as far as I'm concerned, the Senior Wankers can bugger off."

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Maybe I should have you thrown out of the building, then."

"I'd like to see you try, little girl."

"That's quite enough," Wes broke in. "Spike, a word in your ear, if I may?"

"Sure, Wes." We retired to the same room that Buffy and I had just occupied. "What's going on?"

"I had a talk with Gunn and Angel. Gunn thinks he may know a way to break Lilah's contract, and Angel approves. Do you think you can get her to come upstairs next time she contacts you?"

"If I tell her we have a way to break her contract, I might have trouble holding her back. Have you masterminds remembered that she's dead? Not much use breaking her contract if her head falls off and you have to bury her again."

He frowned. "At least she'd be free of the Senior Partners. But, yes, we've thought of that as well."

"All right. Her method of choice for contacting me before was to pull me through the floor." I grinned. "Not sure what she'll do now." I felt a hard yank on the hem of my duster. "That answers that question. See you in Angel's office in a few minutes. Oh, by the way? She said something about still having a dollar bill." I closed the door on his unreadable expression.

I took the elevator down to the basement and met Lilah in the middle of the floor. "You're solid again," she said without preamble.

"Already had this conversation with Eve, luv, so you're boring me. I do have something of personal interest to you, though." At her silent invitation, I continued. "Wes says he found a way to break your contract. Angel approves, and if you'd like to come upstairs with me, you'll be a free woman."

She surprised me by not jumping on the offer right away. "Will I still be dead?"

"Wes said they'd figured that out too. He didn't give me any details."

"And free as in 'free from the Senior Partners' or 'free from Wolfram and Hart'?"

"Look, I don't know, all right? But if you're employed by Angel's version of Wolfram and Hart, I assume that he'll let you quit without cutting off your head, because he doesn't operate that way unless you're, you know, sacrificing babies or something."

"Well, it's been a long time since I've done that. Hey, I'm already dead and condemned to an eternity in Hell. I guess working for Angel couldn't be any worse."

:-:

"You want me to do _what_?"

"A convent is being sued by a demon-rights group," Angel said patiently. Lilah and I had met Wes and Charlie in Angel's office. "Seems the sisters got a little overzealous in casting one out, and this group thinks they used unnecessary force, plus the fact that they're not licensed to do exorcisms. So I want you to take their case, pro bono."

"Shouldn't we be on the side of the demons? That's normally our purview," Lilah pointed out.

"The demon division of the ACLU is representing them. Jumped into the case with both cloven feet, as a matter of fact. I owe these nuns, Lilah. Are you going to take their case or not?"

She looked over at Wes. "Is breaking my contract contingent upon me doing this?"

"No, Lilah." He sighed. "But I really wish you would."

"Just like to know where I stand. All right, I'll do it." She picked up the file. "But I hope you realize that I don't like nuns very much."

"Eh. How much did you like your bloody clients before?" I asked.

"That's true, I guess. How do we do this?"

Wes held up her contract. "You signed on with the Los Angeles division of Wolfram and Hart. Which is now controlled by Angel."

Gunn continued. "Therefore, you work for him now. And he can do whatever he wants to with your contract."

"Including burning it," Angel concluded, flicking a match to life.

"Whoa, guys. Not so fast. I'm sort of dead here. What happens if you burn my contract?"

"First, you sign a new one," Charlie said.

Her turn to heave a sigh. "Enforceable in perpetuity, I suppose?"

"You can get out of it any time you like," Angel said. "Just let me know."

"You're sure this will work." For the first time, I could tell that she was letting herself hope. "Because usually, these contracts are airtight. For them to leave a opening like that is...unlikely."

"I've gone over it with all the shiny new legal mumbo jumbo they stuck in my head. It's as solid as I can make it," Charlie assured her. "I just don't think anyone's thought of exploiting the divisional loophole before, because it's not often that a branch of Wolfram and Hart goes through such a drastic change."

"All right. Here goes nothing." She signed the new contract, and Wes burned the old one ceremonially. We all cringed a bit, waiting for lightning to strike or Lilah's head to fall off, but atmospheric phenomena failed to materialize and her head stayed where it belonged, to everyone's relief.

Angel smiled a little. "Welcome to the team, Lilah. This doesn't mean I like you or anything."

She shook his hand. "No worries; I don't like you either. But I'm sure it'll be interesting for all of us."

:-:

After seeing to that little triumph, I wandered back to the lab. Fred was staring through a microscope at something or other, but she grinned at me as I walked into the room. "Dawn called down looking for you. They're leaving soon and she wanted to talk."

I wanted nothing more than to bask in the presence of my Science Goddess, but I had a good chance of never seeing the Niblet again, so I knew I needed to have one last chat with her. I pecked Freddi on the cheek. "I'll be back after I see them off, luv."

"Buffy didn't seem very happy with you when you guys came back from your conference."

"That's because I made a choice, and she came out in second place. Slayers don't like losing. She knows it's for the best, though."

"Oh? Oh! Ohhh..." Freddi's face ran a whole delightful gamut of expressions as she realized what I meant.

One side of my mouth quirked up. "Yeah. You're stuck with me. Unless you don't want - "

She pressed her fingers to my lips. "Of course I want, silly. I thought I made that perfectly clear last night."

"Just making sure." I glanced away. "I have a history of crossed wires and mixed signals with women. You wouldn't be the first I'd wildly misinterpreted."

She grabbed me by the arms and kissed me thoroughly. "Misinterpret that," she challenged.

"Well, no, I suppose that's pretty unmistakable." I collected myself, mentally beating back the part of me that wanted a lot more than kissing, just then. "Right. I'll be back in a bit, pet."

"I'll be waiting."

:-:

"Niblet?" I knocked on the door again, having not gotten an answer the first time.

"Fine. Come in, Spike." I opened the door to see her slouched sullenly in one of the big square chairs that were ubiquitous around the place, arms crossed over her chest, feet up on the coffee table.

"What's the matter, kitten?" I sat on the sofa opposite her.

"I can't believe you're staying here with the Devil's Advocates instead of coming back to Rome with me and Buffy. What's up with that, Spike?" I was making a bad habit out of pissing off the Summers women.

I took a deep breath. "What did Buffy tell you?"

"Oh, some utter crap about Angel needing you. Like I'm supposed to believe that. You two hate each other. So what's the real reason? It's Fred, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Dawn, she's a big reason. She's the reason I didn't get sucked into Hell when a particularly nasty ghost was trying to get me to take his place, and she's the reason I'm solid right now."

She wasn't going to let me off easy. "Do you love her more than you loved Buffy?"

I flinched at the past tense. "It's different, is all. I could never have what I had with Buffy, with anyone else. Just like I could never have what I have with you, with anyone else. I still love Buffy, and I still love you. I have ties here, though, and obligations. I can't just pick up and go to Rome with you. As much as I'd like a bloody vacation."

"Will you at least come visit? Sometime?" Her expression was wistful.

"I can't make any promises, luv. I'll try. Honest."

"I guess that's the best you can do. Especially with all the wonkiness around here. I'll take it," she decided.

"All right. How about a real hug? Haven't gotten one from you since I got all substantial again."

We stood and embraced. "I miss you," she said into my shoulder. When had she gotten so tall?

"I miss you too, Niblet." I stroked her hair. "More than I can say. But you go back to Italy with your big sis, and stay safe. As long as you're safe, I can carry on here. And you and Buffy will always have big places in my heart. I hope you know that."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

:-:

Buffy and Dawn had been seen to the airport, and night had descended upon the city. The four of us stepped out of the elevator into Angel's penthouse. "Come in, come in, my scrumptious cupcakes!" Lorne said. "Angel thought we should have some sort of party to welcome Spike back into the land of the corporeal and Lilah back into our personal sphere."

"Even though he doesn't like either one of us?" I asked. I had my arm wrapped around Fred's waist. Wes and Lilah hadn't gotten to the hand-holding stage, but they were standing closer together than was strictly necessary. "Tell the truth, Green-Jeans. This was your idea."

"Okay," Charlie admitted. "We had to push him a little. But hey, here we all are. Have seats, grab some refreshments. Lorne set up a karaoke machine for us so we can sing later."

"I'm not singing," Angel said, walking in from the next room.

"No one said you had to, Mr. Can't Carry a Tune in a Dooney and Burke." Lorne winced. "I'm really wanting to hear from this quartet, in particular. If you and Gunn sing, that's just bonus."

We arranged ourselves around the living room and fell to story-telling. Angel told them a funny anecdote about when I was a fledge, and I returned the favor by telling them about a time when Darla locked him out for a week. Fred had a tale of a tech making a mistake in the lab and creating a scary, self-perpetuating slime that could only be got rid of by pouring Mountain Dew Live Wire on it, and Charlie regaled us with the courtroom antics of one of our chronic clients.

Wes had one about a mystical weapon with the unexpected property of turning whoever got blasted with it into a sheep. Lilah went him one better with an account of a Border Collie that became a man, got frustrated trying to deal with the foibles of humans, and demanded to be turned back. And Lorne beat everyone with a story about Alec Baldwin and an irritated burro that had us rolling on the floor.

As we sipped drinks and wiped tears of laughter from our eyes, Lorne clapped his hands. "Okay, kids." Somehow, as offensive as it was when the Eve bint used that word, it wasn't bad at all coming from him. "Time to sing. Who's first?"

Fred frowned cutely. "How do you want us to do it? Alone, duets? All four of us?"

"Duets would be ideal. But any way you want to do it is fine, my little cream cheese blintz." She stood up and whispered in his ear. "Oh, sure, I have that. I have everything. But especially that."

She whispered in my ear next. "I can manage it, I think," I said. "Thirteen episodes of the bloody brilliant show, all in a row, I think I can remember how the theme song goes."

Lilah and Wes were having a rather intense discussion. I heard Wes say "Neil bloody Diamond and Barbra sodding Streisand" in an outraged whisper, and Lilah answered something like "Jim Ed Brown and Helen Cornelius," then Wes responded "That doesn't help!"

"Maybe we should wait and let them go first," Fred said. "It'll be entertaining to see what they come up with, judging from what I'm hearing."

"Fine, fine." Wes was resigned, Lilah triumphant. "Lorne, if you don't have this, you'll make me a very happy man. Otherwise, I suppose we'll sing it."

"Sorry, Wesley, but Diamond and Streisand? It's a standard. I'm afraid you're stuck."

I don't know what I expected, but Lilah's rich contralto surprised me as she began: "You don't bring me flowers, you don't sing me love songs..."

Wes continued in a decent baritone. "You hardly talk to me anymore, when I come though the door at the end of the day..."

We applauded enthusiastically when they finished. "Very very nice," Lorne said. "Okay, Spike, Freddikins, your turn."

"Aren't you going to read them first?" I asked, not being in any hurry to get up there and sing in front of everyone.

"Two for one deal tonight."

"Ready, luv?"

"As I'll ever be," Fred replied. We took the microphones from Lilah and Wes and waited for the words to scroll onto the machine. Together, we sang: "Take my love, take my land. Take me where I cannot stand..."

As we sang the theme song for "Firefly," I watched Fred and marveled that such a smart, beautiful woman could ever go for a bloke like me. I didn't know how long it would last, but I'd cherish it while I had it.

"You four should start a band together," Lorne said at our conclusion. "Golden pipes, all of you. As for your destinies...well. It won't be smooth, because it never is. But I can safely say that of all the couples that were ever meant to be together, you guys have Romeo and Juliet and Rhett and Scarlett beat all to hell."

"That's bloody lovely," I whispered to Fred, "considering Romeo and Juliet died and Rhett and Scarlett broke up." She giggled.

"Hey! None of that!" Lorne said. He raised his glass. "To love."

"To love," we all chorused. Love had made me solid and brought Lilah back from the dead. I couldn't think of a more fitting toast.

_The End_

* * *

**Author's End Notes:** Many thanks to the good folks who helped and encouraged me along the way. This story has been nearly a year in the making, with stops and starts and plot revisions and a lot of bad language on my part. Thanks to Liz Marcs and the others in our Writer's Workshop at WriterCon, mainly for not telling me I was on crack when I told them what this was about. Thanks especially to Jeri, who is a constant encouragement, gave me some excellent ideas, and told me what her apartment looks like so I could describe Fred's. Thanks to Illmantrim, who gave me the bloody marvelous idea of using the theme song from "Firefly" as Spike and Fred's duet. That song belongs to Joss, and "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" belongs to Neil Diamond, Alan Bergman, and Marilyn Bergman. No infringement intended, no money made. And, um, I hope no one needed an insulin shot after that ending. Yeah. 

Special thanks to my dear Hubby, who puts up with my rather odd hobby and gives me some very good ideas - such as Lilah's first assignment for her new boss. He's a most excellent bouncer-offer, and my life would be infinitely more boring without him.

Read, review, give me a happy. And if you liked this, you might like my other stories as well.


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